Page 42

She’d been out of sorts ever since that night with Elizabeth. And the reason was very clear.

Eleanor prided herself on her ability to control her emotions, her ability to remain pragmatic, detached even, when necessary.

Yet Danni unsettled her in ways that she wasn’t sure how to process. There was something infuriatingly captivating about her. Her confidence, her ease, the way she seemed to exist so solidly in her own skin. Okay, so she was irritating. Annoying even.

But then there was the absolutely undeniable fact that Danniwas, objectively, a very attractive woman. All the willpower in the world couldn’t make Eleanor deny that.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had actual feelings. Not real ones. Not ones that made her cheeks flush and her heart feel funny. She was a busy woman, she’d always kept herself busy. An estate relied on her. Even now, with the house closed for renovations, she had a host of workmen that needed to be paid. Once the house was done, there’d be estate workers and house staff and all the rest of it.

She didn’t have time for anyone.

Until now.

But, and here was the crux of the matter, this wasn’t a real marriage. This was an arrangement. A business transaction. Which meant she shouldn’t, couldn’t, take advantage of Danni. But it was getting harder and harder to remember that, when she caught Danni looking at her in a certain way, or when their hands brushed by accident, and Eleanor’s stomach did an annoyingly traitorous little flip.

And when she could see from Danni’s looks that she might not be the only one having these thoughts.

Things could get messy, she told herself. Ah, yes, but then things might not, said another half of her brain. Hardly helpful.

She sighed and tugged on the reins, guiding Sam back toward the farm, determined to shake whatever foolish thoughts had begun creeping into her mind.

Danni was waiting for her when she returned, leaning against the gate, arms crossed over her chest, watching her approach with an unreadable expression.

“Huh. You weren’t lying,” Danni said, as Eleanor dismounted with practiced ease. “You can ride.”

“I did tell you,” said Eleanor, hooking Sam’s rein to the gatepost. “My mother gave me my first riding lesson when I was three.” She hesitated for a moment. “It’s, um, I think it’s the only thing I really remember about her.”

There was a second of silence. Then Danni said, “That must be difficult.”

“I don’t know any different,” Eleanor said, stroking Sam’s nose.

Silence stretched between them, heavier than before, and Eleanor didn’t really know what to say to break it. In the end, she went with something that had been on the edges of her mind. “I’ve met your brother.”

“You lucky thing, you,” said Danni.

“You said your mother was up at the farm too, though. I haven’t met her.”

Danni shifted, her easy demeanor faltering. “It’s complicated.”

“So you’ve said,” said Eleanor, turning now as Sam bent to crop some grass by the fence.

Danni sighed and looked out over the paddock toward her brother’s farm. “She and I… She wanted sons. She got Hector. Someone strong to run the farm. Daughters weren’t her thing. I wasn’t her thing. She… She never thought I could do anything. It was like I was a disappointment before I even tried, I dunno.”

“Danni,” Eleanor said softly.

“Then she found out I brought this place and called me an idiot and a hundred other names and we argued and, well, I haven’t really spoken to her since. She’s up there, I see her sometimes when I get the post and what-not, but we don’t really talk.”

Eleanor studied Danni for a moment. “Do you miss her?”

“Not really,” said Danni, shaking her head.

Eleanor turned toward the horizon where the sun was starting to sink, turning all of the light orange. “Sometimes, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with parents,” she admitted.

“That’s a bit morbid, Princess,” Danni said, cocking an eyebrow.

“It is, isn’t it?” said Eleanor, smiling a little.

The breeze picked up, carrying the cool scent of damp earth and hay. Eleanor shivered slightly, her t-shirt offering little protection against the night air.